Dark Grey Skies
by Lexwingh
Summary: Little more than a decade after the Battle of Hogwarts, a chance encounter between Harry Potter and a long-lost friend uncovers a secret concerning the two unlikeliest of people. [DH compliant, EWE?]
1. The Missing Friend

**Summary:** Little more than a decade after the Battle of Hogwarts, a chance encounter between Harry Potter and a long-lost friend uncovers a secret concerning the two unlikeliest of people. [EWE? DH compliant]

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 **Chapter 1 - The Missing Friend**

It was a slow day in Diagon Alley, with thankfully not too many witches and wizards about. A pair of bright green eyes glanced up at the darkening skies and was briefly relieved he'd gotten everything done before the weather got any worse. The threat of heavy rain, possibly even a storm, was looking less of a threat and more like an imminent certainty. With a sigh, the owner of said green eyes lowered his gaze back to the cobbled street of Diagon Alley.

They'd been invited over to the Burrow for dinner that evening and since Ginny was already there with their children, he meant to Apparate directly. Remembering he'd nearly run out of ink at home, Harry stopped by a small shop for writing utensils on the north side, near the entrance to Knockturn Alley. He far preferred these smaller and less crowded shops, even if people didn't stare as much as before – well that wasn't exactly true, they still stared a bit, but at least they seemed to be a little more polite about it.

Whilst absentmindedly walking past the entrance to the ill-famed and far less crowded alley so he could Apparate, Harry's eyes fell upon a figure in long dark robes looking into the glass window of another small store in an even darker corner.

The figure was that of a woman and, in truth, there was nothing particularly noteworthy about her. Yet what caught Harry's attention was her hair. Long, brown and a bit bushy – so much like _hers._

His chest tightened at the thought.

Many would say Harry Potter had finally found happiness. Countless magazine and newspaper articles delved into the hero's "perfect life" and, in a sense, they were right. All in all, Harry Potter was a happy wizard; no Dark Lord plotting to kill him, a beautiful family and finally living a normal life working as an Auror. Well, as normal a life one could have being a wizard.

However, his happiness had one major hole in it: Hermione.

Despite all the good things that came their way, neither Harry nor Ron ever got over losing their best friend. It had been _years_ since he last saw her and Merlin, how he missed Hermione. Losing her after the war was over – when he thought they were finally all safe – nearly became his undoing. Nothing could compare to the utter helplessness Harry felt after she went missing... not knowing whether she was hurt or even alive still haunted him.

Of course, Harry and Ron searched for her, using all their pull in the Ministry and Auror division to investigate her disappearance. Never giving up and ignoring those who insisted she was dead; month after month, even years, they searched and hoped.

But Hermione Granger had simply vanished.

Harry fixed his attention on the woman standing only a few paces from him. He couldn't _really_ tell from behind but she seemed to be around his age. Also, couldn't fail to notice she was about his friend's height and that hair was so much like Hermione's it frightened him. It wasn't quite as bushy as it had been back in school; Hermione _had_ learned to tame it eventually, making it more curly than bushy. Yet it never completely lost all of its unruliness.

Harry blinked as the witch surreptitiously pulled her hood back up.

It wasn't until then that Harry noticed the little girl – 5 to 6 years old at most – holding on to the witch's hand.

How had he not notice the girl before?

The woman had an admirably good figure for a mother, though, he thought fleetingly. And slowly he began noticing more and more things about her... she kept tapping her right index finger against the handle of her bag and looked somewhat edgy, turning her head and occasionally shooting furtive looks down the street. On one of these turns, her hood fell back again and Harry drew a deep breath, shocked after having caught a glimpse of her face.

 _It couldn't be._

Maybe his own deep wish to see her had indeed boggled his mind after all this time. Without even thinking he quietly but surely drew nearer.

"Mum? Can you buy me an ice cream before we go home?" Harry heard the young girl say.

"No, darling. It's nearly dinnertime."

" _But I really want one,_ " the girl whined pulling on her mother's wrist.

"I said _no_ , Lyra."

" _Please?_ " she begged and after a short pause - in which she got no response - added, "Mum, you're looking very pretty today..."

The woman laughed. "You should try being more subtle."

As if struck by lightning, Harry found himself rooted to the ground, his mind going blank yet erupting with an array of unintelligible thoughts at the same time. And before he knew it, he'd propelled himself forward with incredible swiftness, reaching the woman and her daughter in a couple of long strides before extending a hand to grasp her own arm.

The brown-haired witch whirled around with eyes wide in surprise and confusion. Her face paled visibly whilst her brown eyes widened even further as they locked onto his green ones. Unable to control himself, Harry gripped her shoulder a little too tightly without meaning to.

 _She_ was clearly just as shocked; however, while Harry Potter was stunned with disbelief, she looked utterly horrified.

"H-Harry?" her strangled and slightly quivering voice called out in barely more than a whisper.

" _Hermione?_ " he finally managed with a choke.

Harry could not describe the wave of emotions assaulting him in that moment and by the looks of it, she felt exactly the same. For what seemed like an eternity but was probably no more than a second both of them just stood facing each other; Harry still gripping her arm, green eyes locked on brown until she let out a long gut-wrenching sob before launching herself at him, pulling him into a fierce and desperate hug. Harry clung to her just as tightly... there really wasn't much else he could do. He was almost afraid this was all in his head.

After a few seconds, minutes, or even hours – he couldn't really tell – they broke apart. Hermione wiped her eyes with the sleeves of her robes as Harry wiped his, having not even realised he was also crying.

"Hermione, what... where have y – _Merlin!_ We thought you were _dead!_ What happened to you!?"

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry! Gods, there is so much I need to tell you! I was so terrified and at last – coming home!" Harry almost grinned at her babbling.

Her already puffy eyes began to water again and this time, Harry recognised the guilt in them. A sudden realisation hit him.

"Sorry? Why would you be sorry? Unless…"

It all made sense. The sneaky behaviour from before he confronted her and her current guilty demeanour... Hermione had run away. She had never been missing or kidnapped or attacked. What had she been running from? But what hurt the most was how she had not trusted them. She had not trusted _him_.

" _No_ , listen! _Listen_ to me, Harry! There is something you must know first!"

"Bloody hell! I... I never—"

"Mum?" a small voice unexpectedly cut in hesitantly.

Merlin, they had both forgotten the child.

When Harry looked down he saw her standing closely by Hermione, gripping her mother's robes – for she was without a doubt Hermione's daughter. The young girl had the same brown hair, worn in two loose braids, and her face was much like Hermione's except for the eyes. The girl's eyes were a remarkable pale grey. They struck Harry as oddly familiar.

"Mum? Why are you crying?"

It wasn't just the eyes. Looking more closely Harry began to notice a few differences in their features. Her face was a bit pointier and her teeth weren't as large as her mother's had been when she was a girl. The girl's manner and bearing were also very different from Hermione's but yet again, _still_ familiar. He watched as her chin tilted up and her eyes swept over him. A rather beautiful child and her grey eyes contrasted magnificently with her hair. She seemed curious and by what he'd overheard previously, probably more than a little bit bossy and clever, like Hermione. But there was something else about her – the way she held herself, so obvious and yet Harry couldn't place it.

"Oh, darling, I'm not sad! This—this is Harry, my friend Harry. You know who he is," Hermione explained before turning her gaze back at Harry, her eyes wide and pleading. After all those years of friendship, and being a father himself, Harry understood what she was asking of him, of course. Not in front of the girl. With a surprising strength of will Harry managed to calm himself, or at least appear to. They would certainly have a very long conversation later and Hermione damn well better explain everything then – he'd make sure of it.

Harry looked down at the small girl. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter... I'm an old friend of your mum's –"

"Harry Potter? Then you're my Uncle Harry," Harry was thrown off balance as she grinned up at him. "I wanted to meet you so much! And Uncle Ron... Where is he? Mum talks about you two all the time!" she gushed, obviously trying to get it all out at once. It was quite endearing really and Harry found himself immediately smitten with her. "— _all_ about Hogwarts and says you two were her best friends! Father, though... he says you two were nothing but a couple of baboo—"

"Lyra, I believe that's enough," Hermione interrupted sharply. Silver eyes flashed at Hermione in annoyance but the witch ignored them. "Harry, I'd like you to meet my daughter."

Harry kneeled down, in order to be eye-level with the kid. "I'm very pleased to meet you. And, I suppose you will get a chance to meet Ron," he said with a fleeting glance at Hermione who nodded from above. "So, your name's Lyra then?" He felt Hermione stiffen slightly, though he couldn't for the life of him understand why. Then again he seemed to hardly know her anymore, perhaps he never had. Especially now that he had an inkling of what she had done.

"Lyra."

Hermione loosened up in relief causing Harry to give her a discreet puzzled look. There was definitely something fishy going on with her.

The girl kept talking, obviously excited and quite oblivious to what was going on with the two adults beside her. "It's an atho—astromi—No. Uhm… bugger." Harry smiled as the girl huffed in frustration while the correct pronunciation evaded her. "It's a _star_ name," she finally said with some relief. "Like my father and almost everyone else in my family."

"Your father?" Harry raised an eyebrow and looked back at Hermione who was now looking downright petrified.

"Yes. He's gone out with Scorpius," she explained before pausing with a frown, "You know, Scorpius said I couldn't come because I'm a girl!" she cried out the last bit, clearly angry. "So now I'm mad at him and won't play with him anymore!"

Harry was very confused now. Who was this Scorpius? And, more importantly, who was this girl's father?

"Harry?" Hermione's voice broke through his musings. "This is why—I had little options. I had to protect myself, I had to protect her."

" _Why_ , Hermione? What happened?"

"It's such a long story... and complicated. But I'll tell you everything, I promise. Merlin knows you deserve it! You and Ron both deserve it."

"Alright," Harry gritted out, his mind such a jumble of thoughts, questions, and accusations that he couldn't get anything out coherently.

She sighed heavily.

"Lyra, why don't you go into the Magical Menagerie? You can watch and pet the animals while I talk to Harry. Yes? Very good, dear. Don't go anywhere else! Just that store, mind you, I can see you from over here." Hermione sighed once again as she watched her daughter leave before turning back to Harry.

"Harry, you _know_ how it was all those years ago... even after Voldemort was gone."

Of course, he knew. Harry remembered it all too perfectly. Hogwarts was in ruins, the Ministry was a complete mayhem, and there were still a few Death Eaters who'd escaped after the battle. The Ministry and what remained of the Order tried hard to catch the surviving Death Eaters and even uncover all the other followers and people who shared his ideals. Programs and propaganda were established to discourage any who still might have favoured Voldemort. New departments were set to rebuild what was lost while others were also made to raid and investigate.

"Yes, Hermione, but I don't understand how—"

"Harry, just – just listen." The-Boy-Who-Lived grudgingly decided to comply so she continued. "After I finalised my last year at Hogwarts I too began working at the Ministry remember?" Harry nodded. "I was still dating Ron but you know I wasn't happy. You know I was still feeling a little lost... It wasn't fair to Ron—"

"Hermione, I know all this! I want to know how and why you disappeared!" he hissed angrily.

Hermione decided to ignore him. "It wasn't fair to Ron," she continued on stubbornly, making it quite clear she was going to do this her way. Even now she wanted to take the high ground and it offended Harry immensely. _She_ was the one that had wronged him. "Besides I—I started having feeling for someone else. I'm so sorry, Harry!" she said looking at her feet, shaking slightly. "I didn't mean for it to happen! I never told anyone. He—let's just say I had to work close to him. I got to know him better and discovered he was – he was... just as lost as I was. We formed a tentative _friendship_ , for lack of a better word, and before I knew it, it became more."

Seeing Harry's look she hastily added, "I didn't _cheat_ on Ron. I _had_ already been thinking about breaking up with Ron, I suppose that recognising my feelings for another person just cemented my decision and I took action." She glanced worriedly at Harry but went on when he said nothing. "That's when all the trouble began—"

"He didn't do anything to you? I swear I'll kill the bastard—"

"No! Nothing like that! Er… remember how we kept receiving threats from the escaped followers? Well, it got worst for me. He was also in a very unfavourable position with those lunatics and they found out, somehow, about us. Somehow they figured it out, I suppose they had been keeping tabs on us and well, our relationship enraged them."

"Why would it matter to them?"

"Because of who he is; what he and his family were and had done…" she trailed off. She was hesitant and Harry had a growing suspicion that she did not want to reveal this man's identity. "It was horrible, Harry," she said in barely a whisper it was clear she did not wish to elaborate. "Of course, the fact that it was me, Harry Potter's _Muggle-born_ best friend who also fought against Voldemort's, made it all the worst," she finished off bitterly.

Harry was stunned.

"He became set on hiding until it was safe until the Ministry managed to restore order but I was reluctant. I was scared but you know how stubborn I can be, deep down my pride wouldn't let them force me into running. We fought over this."

Hermione sniffled and Harry took her hands in his. In truth, he felt awful. Merlin knows what those fanatics may have tried to do and he — her best friend, the bloody Chosen One— hadn't known. Harry felt sick and angry.

"When I got pregnant, my decision was made for me. I made myself disappear, went into hiding and I've been away until now. It was for Lyra... and I would do it again!" she defended fiercely. "I would have done anything to keep those monsters from her."

Harry could now feel the rage building inside him. He felt hurt most of all and lashed out angrily.

"And during all these—these… _happenings_ you were unable to tell me or Ron!? What were you _thinking_ Hermione? Didn't you trust us? Didn't you think we would—would… I don't get it! Why would you keep this from us? Haven't we been through enough together so that you'd know we'd be there for you?"

Tears were streaming down Hermione's cheeks; she simply stared down at her hands, knowing she deserved this.

"You have no idea how much all of us suffered! Trying to find you—never giving up while everybody else thought you were _dead_! And you —you didn't even care enough to tell us! How could you, Hermione?" Harry finished hoarsely.

"I'm sorry, Harry... I can't begin to tell you how much I regret not being truthful from the very beginning. I was so scared of your reaction, and the longer I waited, the harder it became to tell you. Then it all happened so quickly I had no time! Besides, you had enough on your plate. If they caught even the smallest hint that you knew something— I could never forgive myself if something happened to you. Furthermore, the fewer people knew the better. They could track us down through you. I had to protect my daughter. I know you might never forgive me but I truly missed you and Ron so much! And felt terrible all these years! I'm so sorry, Harry. I am sorry you had to go through this."

Harry looked at his feet stubbornly, to angry and upset to speak. He was afraid he might say something he could never take back.

"Harry?" Hermione said in a tentative voice. "There is one more thing, something very important I left out… I don't even know how to begin to say this—"

"Mum!"

Hermione's eyes snapped upwards, fixing themselves on something behind Harry who turned just as fast.

"There's this _really_ big owl," she said gesturing with her arms so to show just how big the bird was.

Knowing exactly where this was headed Hermione stopped her daughter before she could set her mind on the idea.

"That's nice, Lyra, but why would you want an owl? You'll get one when you're old enough and leaving for Hogwarts."

Lyra looked displeased but nodded nonetheless which is when she noticed something odd.

"Mum? Are you crying again?"

"Yes, but don't worry, darling. These are happy tears! I'm just so happy to see Harry after such a long time."

Lyra nodded in understanding, clearly accepting her mother's words without question.

"Say, Lyra," Harry cleared his throat, "how old are you?"

She held up five fingers making Harry smile down at her. The minute he laid his eyes on her he knew he would love her almost as one of his own. He couldn't help but smile at how much her attitude reminded him of Hermione's. She probably would be a bossy know-it-all at Hogwarts. Get top grades as well. Harry knew then he wanted to know her better. He wanted to be in her life and Hermione's. Hermione was like a sister, like family to him. It was a conundrum really. He wasn't sure how he could ever forgive her, yet he didn't want them to become estranged either, not now that he knew she was alive and safe.

"So what sort of things do you enjoy?"

"Oh! Tons of things! Playing in our gardens, playing with Scorpius, flying –"

"Flying?" She definitely didn't inherit _that_ from Hermione.

Lyra nodded. "And reading; I love reading! Father says I'll be the bestest student at Hogwarts," the girl drawled, chin up whilst she poised herself with rare grace for a girl so young. She was looking quite smug and Harry could see what a confident child she was.

"The 'best' student, Lyra. Not bestest," Hermione corrected.

The little witch frowned to herself thoughtfully. Partly storing the lesson for the future and partly peeved at having been corrected at all. As Hermione turned back to Harry she was interrupted yet again. "Mum, can I have an ice cream now?" Lyra asked unexpectedly. Harry wondered whether this recent irritation reminded the girl of the previous squabble with her mother.

"No, you cannot. We've already discussed this, Lyra."

The girl stomped her foot angrily. "I don't care! I want one now," she demanded, echoing her previous argument.

"I will not tolerate any tantrums—"

" _Mother."_

"Whine all you want but you know very well it will absolutely not work with me."

What the girl said next had a chilling effect on Harry. This time that feeling of familiarity with her mannerism resurfacing like a roaring beast.

" _My father_ will buy me one," she drawled so that Harry was struck cold by how she pronounced those first two simple words. "I'll ask him to bring me back here after dinner," the girl went on. "Father says Malfoys _always_ get what they want."

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 **AN:** _Phew, finally out there! XD_ Wrote this a long time ago; shortly after Deathly Hallows came out. Recently went through some of the older stuff on my computer when I found this along with some other stories so I thought, _why not?_ and decided to upload after doing some spellchecking and a little fixing. Sort of testing the waters here so not sure whether to continue.

English is not my first language so I apologize for any errors. I consider myself quite fluent but the occasional word choice and sentence structure slip-ups do happen. Constructive criticism is much appreciated so feel free to point them out!


	2. The Malfoys

**AN:** So here's the second chapter! Thanks to everyone who read, faved, followed and reviewed :) The story has not been betaed so any sort of constructive criticism will be very welcome!

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 **Chapter 2 - The Malfoys**

" _My father_ _will buy me one," she drawled so that Harry was struck cold by how she pronounced those first two simple words. "I'll ask him to bring me back here after dinner," the girl went on. "Father says Malfoys_ _always_ get _what they want."_

After finishing her little statement, Lyra looked up at her mother triumphantly. Hermione flinched visibly, whipping her head up to look back at Harry who'd nearly toppled over from the shock.

 _Oh no, no, no, no._ _NO!_ He must have heard wrong. Harry felt the blood rushing to his head, his eardrums pounding almost painfully.

Harry felt the blood rushing to his head, his eardrums pounding almost painfully.

Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to have gotten her wits back and replied to the girl calmly – or attempted to since her voice strained painfully and she kept shooting glances at Harry's horrified face thanking the gods he had been left speechless.

"Malfoy?" Poor Harry finally managed to choke out."MALFOY?" he repeated much louder this time with eyes flashing at Hermione who stepped back unconsciously, failing miserably at avoiding those green eyes - with their accusing and bewildered glare - burning into her own. "Surely not... No, it can't be— Hermione, tell me this is not what I think! Tell me I somehow got it all wrong! I mean—MALFOY!? "

Lyra had already taken half a step behind her mother. Why was he angry? What is wrong with her name? She didn't like it and she was getting a little scared even. Wondering whether she said or did something terribly wrong, the young girl started to feel an unwanted but familiar sting.

" _I'm sorry_ ," she whispered, clutching at her mother's robes.

Harry immediately turned to her in shock, once again having forgotten her presence in the heat of the moment. Guilt immediately washed over him.

"No honey! It's not you; this has nothing to do with you!" Hermione assured her fervently, squatting down worriedly to face her daughter.

"But why is he angry with me? I'm a Malfoy! Lyra Malfoy!"

"He's not angry! Merely er, surprised! Right Harry?" she insisted with an edge in her tone as she addressed her old friend who quickly nodded in agreement. "He didn't know you were a Malfoy and was just surprised. He knew your father as well, you see?"

Lyra nodded guardedly. Luckily she hadn't cried, her parents always told her nobody should make her feel bad about herself. They'd be disappointed that she allowed someone to upset her so. Besides, she didn't think Malfoys would cry in public.

Harry soon took over and proceeded to make amends. Hermione stood by in silence as he chatted with Lyra. Asking her more about herself and telling her a bit about his own kids.

"I want to go home now, Mummy. I'm tired," Lyra suddenly said, effectively pulling Hermione out of her stupor. After a moment, the girl's lips spread out into a smirk.

 _Oh, Merlin,_ thought Harry dolefully, _now I understand why some things were so familiar. She comes with all the typical Malfoy characteristics as well._ In fact, now that he knew the truth, Harry was beginning to recognise more and more similarities to his school rival.

"I can't wait to tell Scorpius I met Harry Potter," she said smugly. "He'll be so jealous," the girl grinned deviously to herself; the very picture of the proverbial cat that had gotten the canary.

Hermione groaned tiredly.

"Not again," she muttered. "Lyra, _enough_ excitement for today... Merlin, I swear this new little game between you two is enough to drive anyone mad! And to top it all, your father finds it all very amusing! I keep telling him to not encourage such behaviour but he seems proud of whatever he deems 'Slytherin behaviour,'" she griped. Indeed, Hermione knew Draco's not so secret fear was their children not being sorted into his old House, taking after her instead.

Harry eyed the brown haired witch frostily, not feeling particularly sympathetic towards her. He simply felt too angry and betrayed, and therefore thought she deserved it.

Instead, his mind was now preoccupied with something else entirely.

"Hermione, when will you tell Ron?"

Hermione stiffened and looked away ashamed. She dreaded meeting Ron. Harry hadn't been too hard on her simply because of her daughter and the fact that they were in public but she would get the full blow of it later, that much she was certain. However, she couldn't even begin to imagine what Ron's reaction would be. He most likely wouldn't have been able to control himself if it had been him there in Diagon Alley instead of Harry.

"The three of us should meet and I will tell both of you the whole story. Whenever you think is right, Harry."

"If it were up to me I'd drag you off right now," he replied with an icy edge making Hermione imperceptively flinch at his tone.

"Tomorrow then? Where?"

"At my place," Harry answered curtly. "I think that would be best."

"Alright," she agreed slowly, giving an unconscious nod.

After a short silence, Hermione abruptly glanced at her watch before quickly looking around warily, seemingly searching for someone. For some reason, she looked restless again and Harry got the sudden distinct feeling that she was hoping he'd leave.

He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously.

"Hermione, what in Godric's name are you so fidgety about _now_?"

But Hermione did not answer. Her eyes had widened when she looked at something past his shoulder and her whole body tensed.

" _Well_ , if it isn't the Great Harry Potter."

Harry went rigid at the sound of that voice before he whirled around furiously, coming face to face with none other than Draco Malfoy himself.

" _Malfoy_ ," he gritted out.

The irritating bastard had the gall to smirk at him. Harry's fists tightened almost painfully but he held his tongue.

"I see you managed to bump into Hermione. I'd forgotten nothing gets past _Saint Potter_."

This last remark earned the new arrival a very stern reproach from the brunette.

With his anger reaching new heights, Harry kept his eyes carefully on Malfoy. He hadn't expected this. Hell, in all his fury he hadn't even thought – he couldn't even fathom – that Hermione would still be together with the bastard. It wouldn't have surprised him if the git had fathered the child and left her. He should have been prepared, though; the manner in which the girl spoke of her father had been a tell-tale sign.

"Now Pothea—Potter," the former Slytherin quickly corrected himself, eyeing Hermione. Draco knew he shouldn't have behaved like such a git towards the other wizard; he _knew_ how much this meant to her. But it was simply second nature to be disagreeable whenever Potter was concerned and he had been unable to help himself from taking a tiny jibe at his old nemesis.

"Father!" the shrill voice of Lyra interrupted. "See? I met Harry Potter!" she told him excitedly. "Mum was so happy! She even started crying—" at this Malfoy glared at Harry but Lyra went on obliviously, "I had lots of fun but I missed you, Father!" At this Draco swooped down and Lyra jumped into his arms eagerly. He decided against admonishing her for interrupting him.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Indeed, her daughter knew _exactly_ what to say. It no longer surprised Hermione how manipulative their young daughter could be sometimes and even though he should know better, Draco kept falling for it, or maybe just went along with it, Hermione wasn't sure. He absolutely loved pampering the girl and in turn, Lyra worshiped her father. Hermione had resigned herself to being the bad cop, at least where Lyra was concerned since Scorpius might yet prove to be a different matter.

Harry stood quietly watching the entire scene unfold before him. They could even pass for a _normal_ family... but this was _Malfoy_ they were talking about. He settled for glaring at the pale wizard.

It wasn't until Hermione bent down; motioning for someone past Malfoy that Harry noticed he hadn't arrived alone. When he got a good look at the ferret's small companion the raven-haired wizard did a double take. A little boy, no older than five, stood slightly but still closely behind Malfoy, who was already standing upright with Lyra in his arms.

Sweet Merlin! Harry thought back to his first encounter with Draco Malfoy as a child at Madame Malkins; the boy was the spitting image of his old rival. The same grey eyes and white-blond hair, the same pale skin, his pointed features were less pronounced, though. Harry was sure that if he looked at a photograph of Draco Malfoy at age five he would be hard-pressed to find a difference between the two. The boy was watching Harry closely until he noticed Hermione beckoning towards him.

"Mum," he mumbled in greeting as she pulled him to her and kissed the top of his little head. Hermione smiled widely prior to standing back up, holding his small hand in hers.

"Harry, this is my son, Scorpius."

The boy's silver eyes widened as he was introduced to Harry. Obviously, he had also heard stories from Hermione's years at Hogwarts and her two best friends. Harry, on his end, was still amazed by the resemblance to Malfoy; nevertheless, the boy was still Hermione's son...

"Hello, Scorpius. I'm sure your mother told you about me, your sister certainly said so."

The boy confirmed his words with an excited nod before speaking up. "So you are Harry Potter!" Scorpius grinned quickly looking back at his father who nodded at his son. Scorpius then straightened his back and held his right hand out to shake so that Harry almost chuckled despite himself. The boy held himself importantly, so obviously at that phase where boys wanted to imitate their father's and act like a grown up man. Harry fondly remembered both James and Albus pretending to shave next to him. _Pity his father is such a prat, though_ , Harry thought fleetingly.

He shook the boy's hands firmly whilst attempting to hide his amusement.

"She talks about you all the time! Did you really see a three-headed dog?" Scorpius whispered the last conspiratorially. "I asked if I could have one but Mum said no."

Harry smiled. He glanced at Malfoy and decided to take a stab at the former Slytherin.

"Yes we did, your mother, Ron and I. Did your father ever tell you about the time in our first-year when we went into the Forbidden Forest and he—"

"Enough Potter," Malfoy barked, giving Harry a sour look. "Now as touching as all this may be, _we_ should be leaving. Come on, Scorpius, Granger." He shifted Lyra's weight into his left arm as he cocked his head in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry shot a more than puzzled look at him. Surely having two children warranted them being on first name basis? But neither Malfoy nor Hermione caught Harry's short lasting bewilderment. Hermione moved closer to Harry, giving him one final hug.

Hermione moved closer to Harry, giving him one final and almost trepid hug.

"I'm sorry, really. For all you've been through... See you tomorrow and I'll explain everything better," she whispered so only Harry would hear. He detected a slight quivering in her voice and saw her discreetly wiping her eyes.

Having released Harry she took back Scorpius' hand with her right one. Hermione turned back towards Malfoy, resting her free hand below his right shoulder blade as they began to walk away.

Harry cringed at this display of familiarity when he suddenly remembered something.

"Hermione, wait!" She dropped her hands from Malfoy and looked back at him questioningly. "I just remembered. Er... I'm due at the Burrow for dinner—what should I say? Should I mention anything? "

Her brown eyes widened as she bit her lower lip.

"I don't know Harry. I honestly – I don't know what would be best, especially for Ron..." she trailed off. "You shouldn't be burdened with his outburst, though..." she admitted after giving it a thought.

Harry nodded, understanding what she meant but said instead, "let me handle him." He didn't think it was fair for Ron to walk in unawares either and decided he'd speak to Ron in private after dinner. "Tomorrow both of us will be waiting for you at my house."

"Okay," she replied apprehensively.

"It's in Godric's Hollow, unsurprisingly, I know..." They agreed on a time and Harry handed her his Floo address. "See you tomorrow, Hermione," and she couldn't fail to notice his voice had not yet lost it gruffness.

Hermione smiled faintly; not too eager at the prospect.

She turned back to Malfoy, with Lyra still in his arms as Hermione continued to hold Scorpius' left hand. Malfoy looked back at Harry, grey locking with green until he nodded solemnly and turned. Harry frowned and stared angrily, his jaw clenching and his eyes burning a whole onto the back of his over-sized blond head.

"Bye!" both children called back as they waved goodbye so that Harry's glower lessened if only briefly. Hermione slipped her left hand around the crook of Malfoy's arm and they walked away.

Both kids were alright Harry decided, despite being Malfoys. They couldn't help being related to that slime anymore than he could help being related to the Dursleys. Besides, they were children and from his own experience, the one thing Harry would never do was hold children accountable for their parents' actions. No child should be judged for dislike of their parents as the Dursleys had done with him. Nothing of this was their fault.

He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to forgive Hermione though. His anger was still so _raw_. And Malfoy... well he was Malfoy. He still couldn't _believe_ Hermione was with him! Of all the people! And he resented her for that, one more reason why he was so damn furious at her. As things stood, she was as bad as Malfoy in his eyes; their friendship only made her deceit more painful and condemning than anything the Slytherin could have ever done to them in school.

xxx

After dinner, Hermione led the children to their playroom while Draco went over to his study to write some letters he would need to send by owl. It was still early so she had agreed to play with them for a bit before tucking them in. Lyra had forgotten all about her promise not play with her brother any longer.

After some time, Scorpius began yawning nonstop so Hermione decided it was bedtime. She sent Lyra over to bed while she carried her son over to his own. Wiping the fine pale hair from his sleeping face tenderly she gave him a final gentle kiss. Despite his constant mischief - more so than Lyra at times - Scorpius was ultimately a sweet boy. After putting her son to sleep, Hermione stopped to check on Lyra to find her only barely awake so she kissed her daughter goodnight and headed off towards her and Draco's own bed chambers within the handsome Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire.

The odd couple and their children had only just moved to the ancestral Malfoy home. Customarily, the elder Malfoy generation would move from the Manor to a somewhat smaller property, also owned by the family for ages exactly for this purpose. Such a thing would happen after all their children were married or of an adult age effectively transferring Malfoy Manor over to the heir and his new family. Draco, however, thinking his father would be unwilling to honour this custom, tried convincing Hermione they should settle there themselves upon their return to England. Any issues she might have had with Malfoy Manor he understood, but was unable to comprehend Hermione's proposal to look for a residence entirely unrelated to Malfoy property.

In the end, Lucius Malfoy had shocked them both when he informed Draco it was high time _he_ took over the Manor and that the elder couple would be moving according to custom. The Malfoy patriarch had been under house arrest at the Manor after his initial parole from Azkaban and claimed he had enough of being stuck in one place. Indeed, Lucius and Narcissa _had_ taken to travelling a lot so perhaps there was a grain of truth to his excuse.

In truth, Hermione had not been especially eager to live in Malfoy Manor but understanding the significance of Lucius Malfoy's offer and how much it all meant to Draco she could hardly put up a fight. The place was undeniably beautiful but the thought of the horrors that had taken place in there not too long ago still made her uncomfortable, she simply couldn't imagine what it must be like for Draco who had been witnesses to most of it. Fortunately, the main offending areas such as the drawing room had already been completely redone by Narcissa ages ago.

Anyway, if Draco lived through it all and could still love the place then she damn well could too.

The final comfort to Hermione agreeing to live in Malfoy Manor was the knowledge that Draco's parents would stay away unless invited. At least Lucius Malfoy certainly would – in fact, he'd come grudgingly even if invited – which was what really mattered to Hermione; Narcissa, she did not mind at all. It was just unlike her refined mother-in-law to interfere in someone else's household even if the place had once been hers, and common courtesy would also prevent a woman of her nature from coming unannounced. Merlin knows Molly might have done so had Hermione gone ahead in _that_ direction. No, the judgmental and commandeering one of the pair would have normally been Lucius himself, but thankfully he seemed to adhere to the "out of sight, out of mind" philosophy and thus, Hermione and Lucius stayed well away from each other unless absolutely necessary. He'd come to grudgingly accept her relationship with his pure-blooded son but that did not mean he was happy to have her in the family which was a sentiment she returned in full. The frosty truce between the Muggle-born and former Death Eater had become an unspoken understanding amongst the adult Malfoys, Narcissa and Draco hardly paid attention to it anymore.

So, if Lucius was to bully anyone with how the place was supposed to be run then it'd obviously be Draco, and Hermione was sure she'd never hear of it. Draco was a big boy now and she knew he had grown to be more than capable of handling his father.

xxx

Once he was finished in his study, Draco looked at the time and realised Hermione must have taken the kids to bed already. He wanted to check on her, worried about her encounter today with Potter since they hadn't had the chance to talk about it with the kids around. He just knew Scarface must have had one of his tantrums when he found out. But first, Draco made a brief stop by the children's bedchamber before finally heading over to his own while musing on the events of the day.

He had immediately recognised Potter as the wizard speaking to Hermione earlier in Diagon Alley. Even from afar Draco had known; of course, he wouldn't candidly forward this information to his wife, let her think he hadn't realized who she had been talking to until he was too close. Not that she was angry over his intrusion. He supposed she knew it was only a matter of time, and maybe was a little grateful it had finally happened.

In all honesty, Draco had been growing impatient with how much of a wimp she was being. They'd been back in England for a month already and Hermione had been unable to muster up the courage to contact her friends. And here he thought _she_ was supposed to be the brave Gryffindor.

Draco wasn't too keen on having Pothead and the Weasel upset Hermione and would have been content to have her all to himself forever but he knew it was important to her and therefore, inevitable.

So when he spotted Hermione in their previously agreed upon meeting point in Diagon Alley, all teary-eyed with their daughter in tow, he had to step in. To hell with whether Potter knew about him or not. And judging by the other wizard's look of shock, Draco correctly surmised Hermione hadn't yet gotten to that part of her story. No surprises there… how much could have they discussed during a chance encounter in the middle of the street anyway? Luckily Potter was level-headed enough not to cause a scene, something Draco wouldn't have thought him capable of.

Stepping through the threshold, Draco didn't even glance around the room. The bedroom was large and luxurious with high ceilings, as were all rooms in Malfoy Manor. The wallpaper was a very light neutral tan and a large canopy bed claimed the wall opposite the high double doors he'd just been through. It was made of a dark wood of intricate embellishments along with uniquely shaped and twisted pilasters. The pillows, sheets and beddings were of a darker tan colour scheme than the walls with faint green and golden hues. On one side of the room sat a small antique table for two, of the same wood and design as the bed, and behind it was the doors to the balcony. There was another door as well, leading towards the bathroom. On the opposite side was a large fireplace, with a heavily designed iron grate and picture frames on top the mantelpiece along with a few delicate gold instruments and porcelain pieces. By the fireplace sat a couch and comfortable armchair matching the rest of the furniture in the room.

Draco rather liked their new bedchamber and was pleased to be back in his childhood home. The Manor itself was not cold or daunting as one might think. As the new master, Draco vowed he'd make it comfortable and secure. Gone was the old eerie and foreboding feeling Malfoy Manor held a few years ago - when Voldemort and his followers had tortured and murdered within its very walls.

Draco stepped in quietly immediately catching sight of Hermione, already in her nightgown, standing over the fire with her back to him. He pulled off his shoes and socks before walking over silently and stopping right behind her, his chest a breath away from her back and shoulders. He said nothing but she felt his closeness and after a few seconds her hand slowly found his. She led his arms around her which he gladly allowed. And so, both Draco and Hermione stood in silence; her back to his chest, his cheek leaning against her head with his arms wrapped around her, both gazing into the crackling fire.

Despite her calm facade during dinner, Draco could imagine the turmoil that must have been raging within Hermione since Diagon Alley.

They knew this day would come.

Since returning and settling into Malfoy Manor they had rarely gone out in public save Draco who had made a couple of low-profile visits to the Ministry and Gringotts. They knew what going out meant for Hermione: confronting her friends.

For Draco, their fugitive-like life had affected little of his social life. He had no friends since he had distanced himself from everyone, including his old Slytherin pals, after the war – well everyone except for perhaps Zabini who was usually annoying at best. He could care less what people thought or said of his sudden reappearance... Hermione hardly cared either but she did care what those two dimwits thought.

Draco wouldn't pretend he hadn't been anxious over this day either, knowing how hard it would be for her. The day Hermione would finally have to face Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

Most of all, he knew how those two selfish gits would react. They would throw a tantrum, make it all about themselves, demean Hermione, make her feel like some traitor –Draco suspected Weasley would be the worst—without once thinking how hard it had been for her. Draco still held some of his old school grudges but decided to behave as mature and civil as possible in front of Hermione for her sake; however, he would not tolerate, would not _allow,_ them to make her miserable.

His arms involuntarily tightened around Hermione. She turned her face a bit in response so she could see him and gave him a weak smile before turning back to watching the fire.

Draco sighed.

"A sickle for your thoughts?"

Hermione chuckled softly. "You _know_ what I'm thinking, Draco."

"Might help if you talk about it."

"I just never thought I'd come to fear those two..."

"You shouldn't."

"I know... I even know exactly how each one will react yet I can't stop myself from dreading this meeting. But I suppose it's best to get it over with, now that the cat's out of the bag"

"Would you like me to come along?" Draco asked with a smirk.

Hermione scoffed then laughed at the notion. "Very funny; if there is one thing that could make it a whole lot worse and really turn the scene into a bloodbath is your presence."

His smirk widened and after a small silence, he continued speaking. "But seriously love, don't let them be too hard on you. We had little options and you did what you thought best at the time."

She nodded then slowly turned around in his arms to face him.

"Thank you, Draco."

He pulled her even closer and she rested her head against his chest.

"I can't help worrying, though... What if they never forgive me? They're so... stubborn."

"Then it's their loss, Hermione."

"But what about the children? I always thought all our children would grow up together. I mean, I – I consider them family! I love them like brothers!"

She paused for a while thinking.

"Actually, Potter didn't seem to have much of a problem with Lyra or Scorpius, I mean who could?" Draco stated haughtily.

"Yes," she agreed, here eyes growing wide. "You're right! Harry, at least, will eventually accept it. Besides, Ginny will simply not stand for any of his stubbornness." Hermione truly smiled then. "Draco, I think he just might accept our children, even if he never forgives me." Whether Ron Weasley would feel the same was left unsaid. Instead, Hermione sighed then tried to lighten the mood, putting on a teasing smile she added, "I'm worried about Scorpius though. No offense but he looks too much like you, I suppose that will make—"

"Unlike you, I could care less about what Potter and Weasley think of my children. In fact, if it were solely up to me, I'd prefer my son and daughter not to be associating with the likes of them!" Draco snapped.

"Draco..." Hermione admonished feigned disapproval. She actually found his small outbursts amusing from time to time and had hoped for something like it.

She suddenly pecked him on the cheek playfully drawing a smirk from him.

"So, are we done wallowing in misery because of Saint Potter and his faithful Weasel? Because I can come up with a lot of things we could do instead."

"You're incorrigible."

"Yet you swoon at the sight of me, Granger."

Hermione laughed, grateful for his attempts at distracting her.

"Don't get too cocky there, Malfoy. I just might realise—" She was caught off mid-sentence by a pair of lips on hers.

Draco let out a muffled moan as she pushed herself closer to him. He deepened the kiss, sliding his hands down to the small of her back, pulling her closer before manoeuvring them over to the bed.

All other thoughts were forgotten until much later, when the fire had dimmed but pallid moonlight still shone softly through the windows, and both lay in a tangle of bliss, glistening in sweat before he moved to lie beside her.

Hermione kissed his neck softly. "Love you, Draco," she mumbled at him half asleep before burrowing further in against him.

In response he lifted his head, kissing her once more. "And I, you" he whispered.

For a brief moment, Draco looked down tenderly at the witch in his arms before lying back against the pillows. Looking up at the ceiling his now groggy mind drifted back to about 6 years ago. The day's events had him thinking back on how it all started in the first place.

Not long after, he fell into a deep slumber believing Hermione had long done the same but she lay awake still, unknowingly thinking back on the exact same thing.

* * *

Next chapter will probably introduce the "story within the story" so to speak, so yeah, we'll be having a flashback ;)


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